Questioning Myself
Everyday I wait, like a puppy on a pourch waiting for his owner to
come. Sadly, I don't know who or what I'm waiting for. I just sit and wait.
Why am I waiting? What is there to wait for? Now I wait and think,
which makes me numb. Am I waiting because I want time to pass? Am I waiting
because I don't want to go through my youth? Or am I waiting because
I'm scared? Scared of leaving...scared of feeling...scared of being
alone. I cry thinking about the future. Will I ever see them again? The
friends I love so dear? What is to become of us? I know how to walk on my
own, but I can never walk alone. Instead of enjoying everyday, I wait
for the answers to my questions. Everything is changing. At first, I felt
that change was the best thing. Yet, now its too much change to handle.
Love to hate; understanding to confusion; open to hide; laughing to
crying. I hate my age because I begin to be moody. I cry for no reason; I
blush for no reason; I laugh for no reason; I stay silent for no
reason; I argue for no reason. In ways I think it's the effects of my
drug, yet some say my heart is growing. I should be put into a box...to
get away from everyone...to find these answers. I know I'm growing, but
I wish I could stop time and be with the ones I love. My friends, who
are my family; without them...I wouldn't know which way to look. Now the
puppy leaves the pourch for the night...but the puppy will return the
next morning and one day, that puppy will be reunited with his owner.
